


Summer Storms

by hollidayparty



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Fluff, Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase Two Compliant, Marvel Universe, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:12:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollidayparty/pseuds/hollidayparty
Summary: Set after the events of TWS. Part of a WIP multi-chapter fic where Steve and reader are neighbors in his DC apartment. Steve comes to reader's rescue after a thunderstorm knocks out the power in the building. This chapter is set after Steve returns home after being hospitalized at the end of TWS. Slightly non-canon in that Sharon Carter doesn't exist lmao. Tbh I needed to get this part out before IW crushes my soul in a few days.





	1. Really?

**Author's Note:**

> ambiance inspo: https://youtu.be/kLau-noe_Pk
> 
> I usually fall asleep to this and I've been turning this little imagine over and over in my head at night lately and decided to put it on paper! Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader sees Steve is home from the hospital after the end of TWS. Precursor to interaction in orig post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing and posting this in backwards order lol, fight me.

You trudged slowly up the stairs to your apartment, arms loaded with grocery bags and head cast downward. You were deep in thought as you rounded the small corner into your hallway. Instinctively, your head lifted to look toward Steve's door. You expected to see it resolutely closed and the same crime scene tape fluttering delicately in the central air current.

You were shocked to find it open with two voices drifting out into the hall. You stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes searched eagerly for the face you've been longing to see in person.

You stood there for several seconds before a familiar and handsome face moved into view. Steve's eyes snapped to yours, and for a heartbeat, you stared at each other in stunned silence. Then, a beautiful smile exploded across his features, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm. You smiled back automatically, his happiness infecting you.

“Y/n!” he cried, relief and excitement saturating his tone.

A second man you hadn’t immediately noticed looked around at Steve’s exclamation. His head swiveled curiously in your direction. Recognition flickered across his features before he smiles knowingly at you as he glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eye.

“Sam, this is the girl I was telling you about. This is y/n.” Steve said proudly.

You flushed, but your eyes never left his.

Sam stepped toward you. You tore your eyes away from Steve to look at him. He gave you a glowing smile as he extended his right hand. You set your grocery bags on your doormat as you took his hand, surprised by the warmth and solidness in his grip.

“Sam Wilson, miss. I've heard quite a lot about you. It's nice to put a face with a name,” he smirked.

“Likewise, Sam. I've seen the Falcon on the news but you seem much cooler in person,” you grinned back.

Still shaking your hand, Sam looked over his shoulder at Steve and added, “Ooo, I like her!”

You laughed but quickly cut your eyes back to Steve, who for some reason, was staring at you like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.

You felt the familiar flicker of hope jump up in your belly as you took in his expression, but you quickly filed this observation away. You couldn’t fight the slight smile that still played on your lips as you murmured “It's good to see you, Steve.”

He nodded at you, still grinning widely. The silence stretched for a beat too long before you broke it.

“Well, I’ve got to go get the rest of my groceries before they melt, so..” you said lamely.

“Hey, let me help,” Sam said. He held up a hand to stop your feeble protest, “I insist. Plus,” his voice dropped to a stage whisper, “I’d never pass up an opportunity to talk shit about this guy to the pretty girl down the hall from him.”

You giggled and let Sam usher you back down the stairs and toward your car. As soon as you were back on the sidewalk, he rounded on you.

“Look, he won’t tell you this, but he was in bad shape when they found him after the carriers fell. They dug three bullets out of him,” he said shortly, gauging your reaction.

You eyes widened slightly but you were careful to not show any other signs of alarm on your face.

“So, he needs to take it easy while his weird serum does it’s thing and fixes everything. But I think you know as well as I do that he’s a little shit when he wants to be,” he smirked suddenly.  
“He’s supposed to stay off his leg for the next few days, so, I’d really appreciate it if you kept an eye on him. And if you catch him overdoing it, please, call me. I’ll get over here in no time and make sure he sits his ass down.” He handed you a business card from a random Chinese restaurant with his name and phone number scrawled diagonally across the back of it. 

“Got it. I’ll try and wrangle him, but I’ll let you know if he gives me any trouble,” you assured him as you slipped the card into your back pocket.

He flashed you a genuinely relieved smile. “Thank you. Now, let’s get all this ice cream inside, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Barely an hour later, you peddled around your kitchen, throwing some things together for lunch. Suddenly, a loud thud followed swiftly by a muted swear carried down the hallway from a certain someone’s apartment. Almost instinctively, you moved toward your front door, cracking it open and peering toward Steve's place. His door was thrown open still and you could hear him grunt as another loud thump echoed down the hallway.

You flung open your door and marched toward him, calling out uncertainly ahead of you.

“Steve?”

“In here!” he answered. You peered around his door frame and found him on all fours, scrubbing at a blood stain on his hardwood as he shoved furniture here and there out of his way. A pair of crutches were propped against the opposite wall. You saw shelves and their contents thrown haphazardly behind him.

“Really?” you asked dryly.

“Did you come over because you missed me or just to fuss over me?” he said, not looking up from the spot he was vigorously wiping with an old rag.

“Definitely both, but your friend gave me his number so I could call him if you did anything you’re not supposed to. And I really thought I wouldn’t have to call him for like, _at least_ three more hours and yet here we are, not 40 minutes later.”

He looked up at you, his mouth open to argue, but he closed it in defeat when he saw the fierce look on your face and your phone in your hand. He raised his rag in surrender and tried to get to his feet, wincing as he goes. You glanced around at his apartment. Bits of drywall hung limply from bullet holes in the far wall. Dirt, blood, and grime mixed together in odd patterns and smudged bootprints made of all three were plastered across his floor. His lamp was pushed over and his records, books and other belongings were flung into every corner of the room, far from their original places.

“Look, I know it’s probably driving you crazy that you can’t clean up. I get it. But for my sanity, can you please take a hot shower and relax?” you urged softly.

He peaked up at you from under his lashes, guilt and frustration mingling in his eyes.

“Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll make a dent in this mess?” you coaxed gently before adding, “I found that vintage collection of F. Scott Fitzgerald short stories you wanted.You should read it and relax.”

“...I’d like that,” he conceded after a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a handful. I just don’t like feeling useless..”

“Useless?!” you repeated, taken aback. “Are you _kidding_ me, Steve?! You just saved the world! From Hydra! _Again!_ You've earned a few days vegging out on your couch!” Your voice tore through several octaves as you advanced several steps on him. You shook your head incredulously.

“Go! Shower. Now.” you ordered.

Smirking, Steve raised his hands in half hearted surrender again before grabbing his crutches from the wall. He shuffled off toward his bathroom, gingerly using his left leg.

You exhaled shortly as you turn to face the mess Steve was cleaning. You grabbed the rag he set on the counter as he left and got to work.

A short while later, the floor of his Steve's entryway and living room are significantly tidier. You'd made short work of straightening up Steve's belongings, swept and mopped his floor, and done your best to tidy the room. The bullet holes would need some plaster and paint, but they could wait. You leaned against his bookshelf, surveying the room as you absentmindedly rifled the pages of his new Fitzgerald book against your fingers. Steve gingerly hobbled back into the room, supported by one crutch and looking sheepish as he took in the work you'd done. His sweat pants were slung low on his hips and the white cotton shirt he wore clung to his still damp skin. You were struck by the sight of him and stared stupidly for several seconds before his quiet voice yanked you out of your reverie.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I'm still getting used to turning to you for help.”

“No problem, it wasn't that bad. Here. I brought your book and I put your record player back together. Please try to kick your feet up and rest.” You smiled up at him as you handed him the novella, resting your free hand briefly on his bicep, unable to stop yourself.

“Please, text me if you need something. I'm literally right there,” you said, tossing your head over your shoulder toward your apartment.

He nodded, glancing down at the book and then back up at you before offering you a gorgeous crooked smile.

You left as he made his way to the couch. You watched him hobble slightly, making sure he didn't need any help lying down. You chuckled to yourself as you headed into your apartment, remembering Sam's comment from earlier. Keeping an eye on Steve would definitely be more difficult than you thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You checked in on Steve periodically the next few days and brought him leftovers and baked goods whenever you poked your head in. He seemed to be in much better spirits and you were amazed at how fast the serum healed his body. He'd stopped using his crutches the second day and the new scar on his lip already looked several weeks old.

Later, in the early hours of the evening one night, you enjoyed a glass of wine while plowing through several chapters in your new book. The sudden clap of thunder made you jump and goosebumps flew up your arms to the back of your neck. You’d been so engrossed in your book you hadn't even noticed the storm roll in. The rain began to pour in earnest as you clicked on the TV to drown out of the noise of the storm. The local channel 7 anchor only made it through a few syllables before the screen shut off abruptly. Your lights flickered briefly and then cut all together, submerging you in sudden and crushing darkness as thunder roared overhead. Cursing, you padded across the room to your stash of candles. You drug several out of the cabinet and attempt to light them, but your lighter just clicked dully without sparking. In the blue light of your phone screen, you quickly rifled through your junk drawer searching for another one or even a lone box of matches, but to no avail.

Mouth pressed into a hard line, you flipped your phone over and typed out a message to Steve.

_Hey… do you have a lighter or matches by chance I can use? I'm trying to light some candles and mine isn't working. I can come over and get it so you don't have to get up._

You pressed send and glanced around your kitchen, racking your brain for any other place a lighter might be hiding.

A sudden burst of short, staccato knocks on your door exploded in the silence.

You froze.

After a breath, the knocks fired off again, more urgent and slightly louder this time.

“Y/n?”

Steve.

Your entire body relaxed as you headed towards the door, unable to stop the small smile that forms on your lips.

He rapped his knuckles against your door for the third time.

“Y/n, are you okay?”


	2. Chapter 2

You and Steve sat facing each other, both of your backs braced against either side of your bay window. The windows were open, the sound of the rain too irresistible to shut out, now that the worst of the thunderheads had moved past the city. The soft glow of the candlelight gently danced around the room. The landlord had sent an email saying that the power was likely to return by tomorrow afternoon, but for now, neither of you minded. The coolness of the rain was the perfect antidote to momentary lack of air conditioning.

You knew Steve loved summer thunderstorms. He told you that they helped him sleep when he was younger, long before humidifiers and asthma medicine could soothe his ragged breathing. He'd always kept his windows open when it stormed, a habit he'd brought with him into his new life. It made you smile knowing he was enjoying a small, fleeting piece of his past, even if just for a little while.

“I used to worry about you, you know, after they found you,” you murmured suddenly, watching the creases in his forehead form as his eyebrows twitched together in confusion.

“When I was younger, I would imagine how it would be to explain some mundane modern item to a historical figure who had been magically plucked from the past and brought to present,” You smiled sheepishly at the memory. “I would make a game of it, like how would I begin to explain a highway interchange to Benjamin Franklin? Or what would William B. Travis think about Wheel of Fortune?” 

As the realization clicked, Steve smiled indulgently at you, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“And then here you were! This exact scenario, in the flesh. After they pulled you from the ice, I wondered about you all the time.”

“Because you thought all the future stuff would be exciting to me?” he asked, a slightly sarcastic note slipping into his voice.

“Because I thought you must be lonely. And how frightened you must have been,” you said softly.

He paused for a moment, searching your face as he gathered his thoughts. 

“I was. I still am, on occasion. It's better now, but at first… I just kept hoping there would be some magic way for me to go back. It was like being homesick, but dialed to 20. For a while, I just… ached.. for every bit and piece and atom and particle of where I came from. All of it.” 

“I can't imagine how hard that must have been. I thought about you often. How even the tiniest, seemingly mundane things must have been overwhelming. And having all these expectations on you to just snap into the modern world as if you'd been here all along, it must have been so much to deal with.” 

“That part was hard,” he sighed. “I felt so out of place and inept for a long time. People expected me, because of who and what I am, to just catch on immediately, and for the most part, I think I've done a good job. It was difficult, though, feeling so ignorant and not knowing how to ask for someone to show me things.” 

“I'm sorry. I think people were so excited to have Captain America back that they forgot that underneath it all, there was a young man who must have been alone, and scared, and paid a high price to get here.” 

“Thank you.” He reached out hesitantly, his thumb gently sweeping over your cheek as his fingers swiftly cupped the side of your face before letting his band fall back to his side. “it's nice to discuss it this way. I haven't had someone who… understands, who could empathise with me like this. Thank you.” 

You blushed, the trail his touch left on your skin felt white hot. Gazing down at your arms locked around your knees, you mumbled “You're welcome, Steve. I'm lucky you trust me enough to be so open.” Timidly, you reach a hand out to rest on his forearm as you smile up at him. “I still worry about you,” you continued, “it makes me happy to know it's getting better.” 

Steve smiled your favorite crooked smile as he gazed up at you from underneath those impossibly long lashes. He rested his free hand over yours and squeezed gently. 

“You help,” he said simply, with a small shrug. “Immensely. More than you realize. Really, I can't thank you enough. And that apple cake you made me last week?? Man... Are you sure you aren't an actual angel?”

You tilted your head back as you laughed, trying to hide the jolt you felt at hearing him explain his appreciation for you. You were praying his super soldier senses couldn't detect your pulse racing as your wrist rested against his arm. 

As your laughter died down, a comfortable silence enveloped you as Steve continued to hold your hand in place on his forearm. After a moment, he deftly twisted his fingers until they were entwined with yours and turned to gaze out at the rain. 

The thunder rolled in the distance as the rain beat a steady tattoo against every surface it could reach. The air was heavy with the intoxicating smell of a late summer rain. You inhaled the heady mixture of warm humid rain mingled with traces of Steve's cologne as you leaned your cheek onto your knee, wanting nothing more than to crawl in between Steve's arms and feel them wrapped around you. He had touched you more times tonight than he had the entire time you’d known him and you longed to be wrapped in his embrace. Not wanting to push your luck, you willed yourself to stay seated and memorize this moment. The feel of Steve's hand in yours, the smell of the rain, the sound of the thunder's slow rumbling lullaby, how the candles threw dancing shadows that twitched on the walls, and how perfect Steve looked in the middle of it all.

“Thank you again for coming to check on me,” you murmured after a stretch of amicable silence.

“Oh, anytime. I know you don't like storms. Or the dark,” he teased playfully as you grinned, both remembering the time one of your dinners stretched so long the night lights in your hallway clicked on as the lateness of the hour deepened. The miniature solar panels in them had fascinated Steve, but your reason for having them had made you feel ridiculous as you explained your lingering fear of the dark to the world's first superhero. 

As if in cue, a flash of lightning and sudden crash of muted thunder miles away stole your attention away from Steve as your eyes darted toward the source of the noise. His free hand came up to trace the new trail of goosebumps on your arm, his forefinger ghosting across your skin. You closed your eyes at his touch, feeling your pulse spike again as you worked futilely to calm it.

“When the power cut…” he began, and as you turned and were surprised to see a frown of deep concentration set in his features. “I kind of panicked myself actually.” He kept his gaze downward, focusing on tracing the skin between your wrist and elbow. “In my job, surprises like that don't usually have a simple explanation, like a thunderstorm. It’s usually something much worse. My first thought was that someone had come to hurt you to get to me and I was trying to figure out how to get over here to protect you without scaring you off or without putting you in more danger by trying to protect you to begin with. I was about to scale the outside wall between your bedroom window and my living room when you texted me.” 

You stared at him, dumbfounded,the silence between you going on for a beat too long. “Hurt.... me....?” you choked out at last.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, backpedaling, “I know my world is very scary and overwhelming… I just..” 

“No, that's not the part I'm confused about. You're a danger magnet, I'm well aware. Why was your first thought to come protect… me? Why would I be the target, not you?” 

Steve exhaled sharply, tilting his head to one side as he seemed to decide something. He gently pulled your hand to his mouth as his lips whispered against the back of your knuckles. Your lips parted in shock, your heart leaping into your throat as Steve looked up at you. 

“Because you mean more to me than anyone,” he said simply. “These past few months… you've been there for me since I moved here. And not just to schmooze Captain America, but to be there for me, as Steve from down the hall. You see me. Not everything else. I thought everyone who wanted or cared to know me for me was long gone. But here you were. Looking up ration orders from 1939 to make me a cake I mentioned in passing one time exactly as I remembered because you were worried I was homesick. You're kind and empathetic and patient and all of this adjusting stuff was pretty terrible before you, but now I kind of love it? I love spending time with you and telling you about my life. I love how you explain gadgets to me so I'll understand. Or show me how to work Netflix for the 37th time. You make all of this better. I'm lucky to have you. I'm happy having this life now because it brought me to you. I just hope I make you half as happy as you make me,” he finished, smiling sheepishly at you as a faint blush rose in his cheeks. 

Tears stung your eyes as you processed everything he told you. Your mind flitted back to every time he touched your hand across the table and every good-natured wink he'd thrown you as he teased you. All those times you told yourself you must have imagined his eyes darting to your mouth as he said goodnight in your doorway, insisting to yourself that there was no possible way he could want you back.

Yet here he was, inches away, bathed in candlelight and confessing the he was glad for all he’d endured because it meant finding you. You sat in stunned silence, steeling your jaw to keep back the tears that threatened to spill over. 

“You don't have to say anything, it's okay if it's not the same..” he began, uncertain.

You shook your head, cutting him off. “It is. I do. I.. Steve… I love having you here. I feel comfortable with you in a way I thought I'd never have with anyone. You're perfect. Spending time with you is my favorite part of the day. Well, seeing you happy is actually my favorite part. But - I, yes, you, I. You're,” you stuttered, your incomplete thoughts skittering together and tumbling out of your mouth in a jumbled mess. You inhaled deeply, rooting yourself, as you took in his hopeful expression. “Yeah, it’s the same for me,” you said. “Maybe even more so.” 

“I really doubt that,” he whispered, grinning broadly. 

He reached toward you, scooping either side of your face into his hands as he brought his face closer to yours. He stopped just short of your mouth, still hesitant, gauging your reaction one last time to be sure. You closed the distance between you and melded your lips to his. You got lost in the softness of his lips and the gentleness of his touch as your mouths moved against each other. You were dizzy as you both broke apart for air. Steve rested his forehead against yours, panting slightly. 

“I've wanted to do that for so long,” he breathed.

“God, me too,” you said. “C’mere, do it again,” you challenged playfully. 

Huffing a laugh at you, Steve slipped one hand behind your neck as the other pulled you closer to him at your waist. Pressing into his chest, you sighed into him, relishing the way his body felt against yours. 

Your mouth wandered across his jaw and down his throat. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he clung to you. You couldn't get close enough to each other. You wound yourself around him, clawing your fingertips into his broad back as he kissed his way along your jaw to your mouth. 

After several minutes, he surprised you when he kissed you softly, chastely, touching his forehead to yours as you broke apart. 

“I don't ever want to let you go,” he murmured, his arms flexing as he brought you closer to him. 

You smiled and quickly pecked the tip of his nose. “Good. Don't. I'm all yours, chief.” You pulled his head to rest on your chest and climbed into his lap as you wrapped him up in your arms.You tenderly kissed his hair before resting your chin on top of his head. 

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, soaking in this moment you’d dreamed about. You thought back to the past week, when you were wrought through with worry for him. How panicked you'd been watching the news coverage, seeing those helicarriers fall and imagining that the worst had happened to Steve.

“I was so scared,” you began after a moment, voice warbling. “Watching everything happen. Not knowing if you were alive…” You laid your cheek against his hair as you squeezed him closer. He tightened his hold on you. Your muscles flexed as renewed anxiety flooded your mind, the panic bubbling so easily to the surface again. You clung to Steve even harder, as if trying to ward off any unseen danger trying to rip him from your grasp.

“Baby, I’m so sorry...” he whispered. “It’s okay, I'm here,” he soothed. “I'm right here with you. I'm not going anywhere, okay?” 

You nodded. With the tips of his fingers, he delicately drug his hand slowly up and down your back in a languid and soothing rhythm.Taking long slow breaths, you eventually to relaxed once more into Steve's embrace. 

“Stay here tonight?” you murmured softly. 

He smiled, sliding a hand up your back. 

“I thought you'd never ask.” 

Grinning, you leaned down to capture his mouth once more, surrendering completely to this moment and the energy flowing between you. Steve scooped you up easily, hooking your legs around his waist as he stood up from the bay window. Lips locked securely on yours, he walked down the hallway to your bedroom. The storm continued its soft lullaby as Steve ventured toward your bed, gently kicking your bedroom door shut behind him.


End file.
